Then the old man turned to the negroes and in his loud, melodious voice concluded, "I gibs you one mo' 'zortation. You IS free, but ez I say so of'un you ain' free ter do foolishness. Tek yo' wibes en chil'un; dey yourn. Tek yo' clo'es; you arned urn en much mo', but you kyant tek de mules en de ker'age: dey mars'r's. Go en wuck lak men en wimmin fer hon'st wages en show you fit ter be free. Reckermember all I tole you so of'un. De Lawd go wid you en kep you in de way ob life everlas'in'."
The better element among the negroes prevailed, for they felt that they had had a spokesman who voiced their best and deepest feelings. One after another came and wrung the hand of the old man and departed. To "Pharo" and his wife few vouchsafed a glance, for they had cut the cord of human sympathy. Many messages of affection, however, were left for Miss Lou. The mothers took the babies from the carriage, Aun' Suke was helped out and she sulkily waddled down the avenue with the rest. By the time she reached the main road her powers of locomotion gave out, causing her to drop, half-hysterical, by the wayside. Some counselled her to go back, saying they would come for her before long; but pride, shame and exhaustion made it almost as difficult to go back as to go forward, and so she was left lamenting. With stern, inflexible faces, master and mistress watched their property depart, then returned to the house, while Uncle Lusthah mended the harness temporarily and took the carriage back to its place. Standing aloof, Zany had watched the scene, wavering between her intense desire to go and her loyalty to Miss Lou. The sick girl had conquered, the negress winning an heroic victory over herself. When she entered the back door of the mansion, her face rigid from the struggle she had passed through, she was in no lamb-like mood. Neither was her mistress, who was angrier than she had ever been in her life.
"Well," she said to Zany in cold, cutting tones, "what are you doing here? Looking around for something to carry off before you go also?"
Stung to the quick by this implied charge and lack of appreciation of her great self-sacrifice, Zany replied hotly, "I done wid you, misus. I tek no mo' orders fum you. I stay fer sump'n you doan know not'n 'bout—lub, but lub fer Miss Lou. Ef she kyant 'tect em 'gin you den I go."
CHAPTER XXXVII
A NEW ROUTINE
It certainly was a dismal, shrunken household that Mrs. Baron presided over that morning. Aun' Jinkey came to the rescue and prepared a meagre breakfast. Miss Lou's room being on the side of the house furthest from the scenes of the early morning, she had slept on till Zany wakened her. She listened in a sort of dreary apathy to all that had occurred, feeling that she was too weak physically and too broken-spirited to interfere. She also had the impression that it would have been of no use—that her uncle and aunt were so fixed in their ways and views that nothing but harsh experience could teach them anything. In answer to Zany's appeal for protection against "ole miss" Miss Lou said, "We won't say anything more about it now till you get over your hurt feelings, which are very natural. Of course my aunt can't punish you—that's out of the question now, but by and by I reckon you will do for her out of love for me when you see it will save me trouble. You have done a good, unselfish act in staying with me, and having begun so well, you will keep on in the same way. After all of the rest get free you will, too. What's more, when I come into my property I'll make free all who stand by me now."
So Zany brought her up a nice little breakfast and was comforted.
When at last the young girl with weak, uncertain steps came down to her easy-chair on the piazza, she found her uncle gloomily smoking, and her aunt solacing her perturbed mind with her chief resource—housekeeping affairs. Little was said beyond a formal greeting.
As Miss Lou sat gazing vacantly and sadly down the avenue, a huge figure appeared, making slow, painful progress toward the house. At last Aun' Suke was recognized, and the truth flashed across the girl's mind that the fat old cook had found she could not get away. Finally the woman sat down under a tree not far from the house, not only overcome by heat and fatigue, but also under the impression that she must open negotiations before she could expect to be received.